Chapter Thirteen: Jordan
It was just another Friday afternoon. But in a way, it was special. It marked one week down at my new school. One week and counting of the new and improved Jordan Marie Solano.
Even though I didn’t want to admit it, I liked St. Catherine’s. No tension or sexual pressure hung in the air. All of that was reserved for outside of school. Within the building, it was just three hundred girls focused on their education.
It really was freeing. I went to school with no makeup and my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I mean, there was no one I had to impress—no one to dress up for, to slink around like a sex kitten for. Nope, just the nuns.
And I liked it that way.
The day Carson beat me up in the locker room, I officially swore off men. They’d caused too much trouble in my life—not to mention the fact I didn’t want to follow in my mother’s footsteps. Basically, I went to school, did my homework, and worked.
So far, I had no contact with anyone from the Newton world. I desperately wanted to hear from Tara, but she would never return my phone calls. I knew from the newspapers that Coach T was out on bail awaiting the trial. Dread filled me at the thoughts of to running into him again. Not that I worried about what he might do if he saw me. Instead, I worried about my reaction. It had been two weeks of slowly weaning myself off him. Two weeks of telling myself every day I no longer loved him. Two weeks of each day realizing what a fool I’d been.
Every day Mom broached the subject of going to the authorities and dropping the case. Each time she did, I said I would do it tomorrow. It was just too much to bear at the moment.
Even though little time had passed, it was like I went in one world and then woke up in another. One day I was myself and then the next I was someone entirely different. It was a little frightening—like waking up as a clone.
I breezed into Fiorenza’s at a little past four. My work clothes were stowed in the duffel bag on my shoulder. As Marcus came around the corner, his eyes roved over my uniform, and then he whistled. “Damn, Jordan! Rocking the naughty school girl look, are we?”
I snorted. “You’re so original, Marcus.”
He laughed. “It’s a good look on you.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, as I headed into the back storeroom to change. The revolving door swung behind me as I snuck over to one of the corners, away from the prying eyes of pervy Italian waiters.
I stripped off my navy vest and started unbuttoning my shirt. After I slid it off, I tossed it over a rack of tomato sauce. I had just started easing off my skirt when someone burst through the door. “What the—” I muttered.
His arms were loaded down with boxes. Before I could wiggle back into my skirt, he turned to face me. “Jesus,” said.
It was then I got a good look at him. He had dark hair, buzzed short. The blue eyes that drank in every curve on me were the clearest I’d ever seen. In the light, I caught the gleam of piercings in his chin and ears. Even through the white shirt of Fiorenza uniform, I could see his arms inked in blue and green tattoos.
He continued to stand there, staring at me. I cocked my eyebrows at him. “Hey a*shole, do you mind?”
“Oh damn, um, yeah, uh sorry. Excuse me,” he said, before he spun around and promptly tripped over a mound of boxes. A great commotion ensued as they all toppled over on him. Then he gave a low moan.
Without thinking, I raced over to him. Frantically, I began pushing and shoving boxes off of him. I cleared enough to see his face and gasped. “Oh shit, you’re hurt!”
A large gash ran across his forehead, sending blood oozing down his face. I turned back and ran over to my clothes. I grabbed up the white shirt and hurried back over to him.
I started to bring the shirt to his forehead, but he swatted it away. “No, it’ll ruin it!”
“But we have to stop the bleeding,” I said, pressing it against him. He stopped arguing with me and lay back against the floor.
That’s when I realized since I was kneeling over him in nothing but my skirt and bra, he had one hell of a view. Way to go, Jordan. Nice of you to expose yourself so soon to a guy after swearing them off!
He must’ve read my thoughts. “Here I’ve got this. You go ahead and change.”
“Okay.” I went back to the corner where I was before. I snatched up my shirt and threw it on and then I grabbed the khaki pants out of the bag and slid them up with my skirt still on. It didn’t make it down as easy with the pants on, and I must’ve have grunted and strained pretty loudly because I heard his laughter.
“I would’ve closed my eyes, you know,” he called from across the room.
I whirled around and shot him a look. “Why bother? You’d already ogled every inch of me. What was left?”
Slowly, he rose to his feet. He wobbled a little at first before he strode over to me. “If that’s the case, then why did you put your pants on first?” When I didn’t say anything, he grinned. “Pity, cuz I would’ve enjoyed a view of your ass.”
I snorted. “Wow, you’re a real sweet talker, huh?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, actually I am. Get to know me and you’ll see.”
“Um, hmm, I don’t think that’s necessary.” I eyed him up and down. “So what are you doing here anyway?”
“Manny hired me. I’m the new cook.”
“Good for you.” I glanced at my watch. “Well, try not to kill yourself again, okay?”
He grinned. “If I knew it’d bring an angel of mercy like you, I’d do it every day, maybe even every hour.”
I rolled my eyes and started for the door. “Nice pick up lines.”
“Wait,” he said. I turned back around. “We haven’t been introduced.” He thrust out his hand. “I’m Nick DeLuca.”
I gingerly took it in mine. Instantly, electricity pulsed through me. Oh shit, not again. Do not even think about it! I tried not focusing on how his hands were surprisingly soft for such a rough looking guy. Finally, I found my voice. “I’m Jordan Solano.”
He nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
We stood there staring at each other before I finally cleared my throat. “Yeah, well, I better go. Manny will be on my ass for being late.”
“Okay.”
Nick leaned over and picked up my bag. “I’m really sorry about your shirt. I wish you’d let me pay you.”
“No, no, it’s okay. My mom bought a ton of them on Monday for my new school.”
He handed it to me, and I quickly tossed it in the bag. “Well, thanks again,” he said, before I walked outside.
We were actually fairly busy that night, and I didn’t get a break until almost eight. “Hey Jordan, take out the trash before you take your fifteen minutes,” Manny instructed.
“Thanks a lot,” I grumbled as I swept up the overflowing black bag of trash. The moment I opened the back door, a cloud of smoke blew into my face. Nick sat on the edge of the cement steps, a cigarette in hand.
He whirled around. “Hey, Jordan.”
“Hey yourself.”
“Taking a break?”
I nodded as I tossed the trash into the dumpster before walking over to him.
“Wanna sit down?” he asked.
My mind screamed, No, I shouldn’t. I should right back around and get my ass inside—where I’d be safe…away from you! But I smiled and eased down beside him. When I did, a black case fell at his feet, causing my heart to sink.
He met my eyes, and I shook my head. “Listen, dude, that’s not cool.”
“Look, I can explain—”
I held up my hand. “No, there’s no explaining. You’re obviously out here shooting up or something with that drug case.”
Suddenly, he was laughing really hysterically at my side.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, being high is so funny. Your shit could lose Manny his license or something.”
“Jordan,” he began, still unable to contain his laughter, “this isn’t a drug case.”
I arched my eyebrows. “It isn’t?”
He shook his head. Without taking his eyes off of mine, he leaned forward and picked it up. He handed it to me.
“See for yourself.”
I gingerly took it in my hands. My fingers found the zipper on the side, and I slid it open. When I saw what it was, I stared up at him in surprise. “This is a Bible.”
“Yep, it sure is.”
“But…” I stared dumbly at the black Bible with the gold embossed lettering.
“Hmm, I think I get what you’re implying. What’s a guy like me doing out here with the good book?”
I blushed, maybe for the first time in my entire life. “I’m sorry.”
Nick grinned. “It’s okay. I’d probably think the same thing.” He stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete and looked back up at me. “Want me to tell you why?”
In the true smartass fashion of the Old Jordan, I said, “Not if you’re gonna preach to me or try to save my soul or something!”
“No, I’m not going to preach to you,” he assured. His grin spread across his face, causing those beautiful baby blues to twinkle.
“All right then.”
Drawing in a ragged breath, he said, “I’ve led a pretty messed up life the past couple of years.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
Nick shrugged. “It’s okay.” He glanced over at me with a serious expression. “This time last year you would’ve found me with a drug case. I was a junkie living on the streets. But one day, I decided I wanted to get clean. I wanted to make something of myself. So, I got help, and I’ve been clean ever since.”
“And the Bible?” I asked.
He tapped the casing with his fingers. “It’s all part of me rebuilding my life. You know, part of the Twelve Steps of AA—alcohol was just another one of my vices.”
I stared in amazement at him. No one had ever been that open and vulnerable with me—especially someone I barely knew. “Why did you just tell me that?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“Because I saw something in you—something that made me realize I could trust you.”
I smirked at him. “I suppose seeing my boobs had nothing to do with it?”
Nick laughed. I liked how it sounded—it warmed me from my head to my toes. “No, Jordan, seeing your rack had nothing to do with it, I promise. I’m so much deeper than that.”
We sat in silence. Nick lit another cigarette. I leaned over and snatched it from his fingers. I brought it to my lips and took a long drag. I handed it back to him. “Interesting,” he said. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a smoker.”
“We all have our dirty little habits.”
Nick chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we do. I gave up two nasty habits only to embrace another.”
Manny interrupted us by poking his head out the door. “You two have had a long enough break.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, rising to my feet. I turned back to Nick. “Thanks for the smoke.”
“Anytime,” he replied, with a smile.
As I reached for the door, his voice made me shudder. “Jordan, I’m here for you whenever you want to tell me your story.”